


Sacred Geometry

by filenotch



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Established Relationship, Foursome, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Multi, OT4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 19:53:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3949621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/filenotch/pseuds/filenotch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronon's team is not there to welcome him home, until he finds them to see how they've welcomed him home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacred Geometry

**Author's Note:**

> Based in an [OT4 universe of 30toSeoul](http://archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bquery%5D=30toseoul+ot4). Also with cameo of characters borrowed from the amazing [Domenika Marzione](http://archiveofourown.org/users/domarzione/pseuds/Domenika%20Marzione/works?fandom_id=70)'s SGA stories. She said she forgave me. Can be read without either.

"Ronon?" Lorne said, and Ronon turned at the door of the infirmary. Lorne gestured back toward where one of his team, Ortilla, sat on a gurney, fussed over by Dr. Beckett. "Thank you."

"No problem." He turned to go, accepting everything Lorne wasn't saying, that it if hadn't been for Ronon, the man would be dead, that none of Lorne's team would have made it back. Ronon had mixed feelings about it. He was glad to have helped, filling in for Safir, but it had reminded him too much of the seven years he had spent alone, running from the Wraith. He'd become used to being part of a team. Lorne's group was a team, but it wasn't his team.

He didn't bother to radio them. He'd seen Sheppard briefly in the Gate Room, and if any of the rest had been available, they would have met him in the infirmary. It was a small disappointment, but he felt it. He went back to their quarters, expecting them to be empty.

When he opened the door, he froze for a moment. He heard Teyla's soft sigh, a sigh of pleasure, and he could smell them from the other room. The first thing Ronon saw when he stepped into the bedroom was Rodney's ass. The second thing he saw was Teyla's face, and when he managed to take it all in, there they were, Teyla lying face-up on John, John's hands on her hips as he fucked her slowly, and Rodney's mouth, licking John's shaft, Teyla's clit, sucking John's balls, and all of it slow motion, with John and Teyla watching him.

Ronon stood for a minute to take it all in, and then he couldn't help but move to the side of the bed, open his pants, and shove them past his hips enough to pull out his dick. He stroked it to hardness and pulled on his balls with the other hand. He glanced at Rodney, meeting his gaze momentarily until Rodney went to work on Teyla with intent. Teyla sighed, high and soft, closing her eyes for a moment, then looking at Ronon's face before settling to watch him stroke himself. She and John both watched, and he made a show of it, moving slowly, teasing himself, pulling up his balls and then stroking between them with a finger. They had displayed themselves for him as a welcome home. He would return the favor.

John's lips parted, and Teyla began to sigh with every breath, then stopped, barely breathing, and Ronon knew she was about to come. John began to stroke faster in her, and Rodney was tonguing her with a speed that Ronon still found unbelievable, despite how fast he knew Rodney could talk. Her eyes never left his moving hands, until they finally closed, and the scream was short, like the report of a gun, followed by soft echoes.

She relaxed against John, but he did not slow, and Ronon could see how close he was to his own release. Rodney moved down to John's balls, and in moments John curled up and froze, thrust and froze again, then gasped as Rodney began to lick the white fluid that leaked from where they joined. John pulled out after a moment, and shifted his hands under Teyla's ass, raising her as if in offering to Rodney, who licked and sucked with obvious relish. Ronon looked at Teyla's face, but she watched his hands, so he stroked up with a twist, palmed down flat, ran his thumb over the drop of fluid at his tip, until Rodney's tongue sent her over again.

She pushed Rodney's head away after that, and he stood up first, followed by Teyla and John. Ronon's feelings were confused, still disappointed that they hadn't come to meet him, yet turned on and heart warmed both by the greeting they arranged.

"We missed you."

"How was it?"

Their voices were soft, and their hands began to touch him, and he broke the moment by gathering them in a rough hug.

They helped him out of his boots, weapons, clothes and more weapons, stepping back and letting him remove the knives hidden in his hair. Only once had they forgotten that detail, and Rodney still pretended the scar on his finger was worse than it really was.

Teyla sat him on the bed, bringing Rodney over to sit facing him, nearly in his lap, legs over Ronon's thighs. "Lie back," she said, pushing their torsos in opposite directions, taking their dicks in one hand and stretching her mouth around both the heads. John took up a position opposite Teyla, and they traded and shared, sucking each, both, stroking, and kissing with the heads of Rodney's and Ronon's cocks between their mouths.

Ronon held back, but Rodney's sounds became needy, and then his words were demanding. Ronon reached down past his own cock and stroked Rodney while John sucked him. Teyla leaned back to watch, running her fingers lightly up and down his shaft, as if she knew he wanted to wait. Watching John suck Rodney, and hearing what it did to Rodney's normal vocabulary always amused Ronon as much as he found it hot. He'd done this before, joining his hand with John's mouth on Rodney, and it always made him feel like he was giving Rodney to John, or reminding John that he could have Rodney, and that John, even in the midst of this, thought it was all too good to last, too good for John to deserve. He knew they were both wrong, and both right.

They were a square, Ronon thought, holding off his own pleasure by thinking how they had come together already as two pairs. Some lines of connection were thicker--John and Rodney's, his and Teyla's--and they knew that. It wasn't a matter of primary relationships and secondary, just... He didn't know. It was easier to visualize it as a geometric figure, a square with all points connected. Maybe a tetrahedron would be better, but that wasn't right, either, although they felt balanced to him.

Rodney's hips moved, thrusting his cock through Ronon's fist and into John's mouth, and Ronon leaned up on an elbow for a better view of the pulses he could feel under his fingers, of the movement of John's throat as he swallowed, pulses like shadows of heartbeats. He let go of Rodney's cock after John pulled off, and reached to trail his fingers over John's face. John turned and took Ronon's fingers between his teeth, not biting hard, but testing, moving. John didn't do it often, but it was one of the most erotic things he did.

Teyla continued to stroke Ronon lazily, watching John's teeth on Ronon's hand. Rodney stirred after a few moments, sitting up and oblivious to the fact that moving his legs broke the connections among Ronon, John and Teyla. Ronon took advantage of having his hand back to slide it up Teyla's side and pull. She took the gentle hint and moved to straddle him, and someone's hand took Ronon's cock and guided it inside her.

She sunk down on him and he finally groaned out loud, his first noise since entering the room. She was what he needed, wanted, and this brought him back to his center, undid the tense wire of adrenaline, wiped out the vision of Ortilla spinning backwards and grabbing his arm. She was soft and strong and welcoming, and as much as he liked doing, and being done to, by John and Rodney, that was competition, though comforting in its way. This, though, was home.

And John and Rodney knew that, and he knew they had no problem with it. They moved up the bed, sitting on either side of Ronon, and he watched them put their fingers in each others' mouths, slicking them and reaching for Ronon's nipples. They teased him as John kissed Rodney over Ronon's head, wet and open, knowing he was watching. Eventually they lay down, with Rodney curled close, kissing and biting Ronon's shoulder, and John propped on an elbow, watching, stroking, encouraging.

Ronon took his time, his hands wandering from Teyla's hips to her breasts, to the parts of John and Rodney he could reach. She leaned to kiss him, followed by Rodney, then John. He was wrong. Teyla was home, but this was _home_ , and for one moment out with Lorne's team, he thought he might not get to come back to it.

But he was here, and he shut off his brain, letting himself go, surrounded by her soft heat; their hands slick on his nipples, touching him everywhere. And their voices, welcoming, grounding, telling him how beautiful he was, how beautiful they were, until he returned it all, pulsing out of him in light and heat.

After a few moments John moved, making a place for a tired and smiling Teyla to snuggle next to Ronon, and then he and Rodney both began to clean them using tongues and towels. When they settled back on the bed, Ronon was surprised that Rodney took the outside, he and John flanking Teyla and himself.

"Three days," John said.

"Thirty eight hours without radio contact," Rodney added.

"Three nights of dealing with their worry on my own," Teyla said.

"You weren't worried?" Ronon asked her.

"I prefer to hope."

There was a short silence, and John breathed into Ronon's hair, "Yeah. Hope... hope is good."

Ronon knew exactly what he meant, even if he was surprised to hear it from John.

"Yeah."

Rodney snored, but Ronon knew he was faking.


End file.
